


bella

by CallofTheCurlew



Series: Dan and Phil ft. Bella [2]
Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Dan and Phil Get A Dog!, Dogs, M/M, Sick dog, The Dog Doesn't Die Don't Worry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-15
Updated: 2018-08-15
Packaged: 2019-06-27 19:28:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15691893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CallofTheCurlew/pseuds/CallofTheCurlew
Summary: Dan and Phil have a dog, and sometimes they get into all sorts of trouble.





	bella

Dan strops up the stairs with a sour expression.

 “No package, then?” Phil asks from the kitchen, raising an eyebrow at how absolutely disgruntled his boyfriend looks.

 “Another noise complaint,” he holds up the letter and all Phil can focus on are the perfect crease lines amongst the black lettering, the words too small for him to make out. The first one sent fear shooting down Phil’s spine, but now it’s just another letter, “That’s the freaking third one.”

Phil winces, “Have they fined us yet?” 

“Third and Final Warning,” Dan announces the buzz words, “Immediate Compliance Required,” he slaps the letter with the back of his hand, “Which wanker complained? Fucking Janice…”

He’s in a rage, and he stomps around the house proclaiming more phrases from the council letter they’ve received. Phil finishes doing the dishes, wiping his hands on his pants. He’s trying to be sympathetic, but he knew this would happen.

“Where is the little rat?”

“Sleeping,” Phil murmurs, “On our bed. Don’t disturb her.”

Dan turns to the bedroom and doesn’t heed Phil’s words, pushing the half-open door with such force that it crashes into the wall.

“Shit, whoops,” Dan murmurs softly, checking behind the door for damage. It’s still a rental, even if it’s been their rental for half a decade.

“I swear, you cause more damage than she does,” Phil chastises, stepping up behind him.

“Do not,” Dan retorts, before turning to the bed, “Oy, ugly,”

“Don’t call her that…”

“Well she is,” he grumbles, and the sweet dog sprawled in the middle of their bed gives him the side-eye, “Yes you, you little idiot,” he grumbles, “Do you see what you’ve caused?”

He shakes the letter at her, and Phil watches as her tail wags in response to the attention. Phil wants to melt. She’s the most adorable thing he’s ever laid eyes on, but every other word out of Dan’s mouth is an insult when it comes to her.

She tries to launch herself up onto all four legs, but she’s not quite coordinated enough on the springy surface and ends up with her ass in the air, her front legs and her head still sideways on the bed. Phil can’t help his laugh.

“You nutcase,” Dan addresses her, and finally there’s some fondness in his voice, “Come on, mutt. Maybe if we go for a run you’ll actually sleep instead of barking at two in the freaking morning.”

She woofs at him, indignant towards his accusing tone, and he hushes her quickly.

Phil laughs quietly and shakes his head, “Have fun…”

“You’re not coming?” Dan asks, turning towards him with a head-tilt not unlike the dogs’.  

“Not tonight. I’ve got some editing to do and she distracts me too much.”

“Fair call,” he shrugs, and he walks through the house to where her leash is hanging up, giving it a rattle, “Bella, come on…”

It’s a pitiful name for a dog, and Phil can’t help but think of Twilight every time anyone says it, but she was almost two and a half when they rescued her from the pound, and everyone said it was allegedly too late to change it. At the very least, they decided it was short for Bellamy, and she was clearly named after the guitarist from Muse.   

Phil squeezes to the side as Bella skitters past him, her tongue hanging a mile from her mouth in excitement. She’s beautiful, even if she’s not the most conventionally attractive dog. The pound guessed that she was somewhere between a Boston Terrier and a Jack Russell. She’s stocky and a little fat, with soft brown fur and a white underbelly. Phil’s favourite is the longer scruff just above her nose, making her look like an old man. He loves her, even if she isn’t pedigree.

The first time they saw her was in a picture where she sat in a cage alone. She was only a baby, with a grey towel for a bed, and her food and water bowls were plain metal. It had broken Phil’s heart.

He wasn’t supposed to be looking. They were going to get a dog _after_ they moved out. The place they had now did have a communal backyard with grass, but it was small and Bella was inside for most of the day. But Dan had taken one look at her and they were down at the pound that night, breaking her free (in cash) to live a better life.

And a better life it was. She slept on their bed, often nestled between them under the covers. She went on a daily walk, and Phil attempted to train her at least twice a day. He was unsuccessful, but Dan liked to watch them fail together. It usually resulted in the three of them wrestling, ending up sprawled on the carpet with each other.

Despite the timing, neither of them regretted the decision. Bella made their lives happier, with something to look after together. She interrupted videos, caused noise complaints, and sometimes she sicked up on their blankets, but they wouldn’t change it for the world.

  


Eights months after her adoption day, Phil enters a quiet house. Usually Bella is at the door, whining and barking at him (which he loves to death. Having someone _that_ excited that you were home is a huge stroke to his ego).

But the house is dead silent, and Phil feels his heart drop.

“Dan?” he calls and he can hear the urgency in his own voice as he steps further inside.

Dan appears in the doorway but he’s on the phone. Phil knows there’s something wrong before he even speaks. He looks more dishevelled than usual, hair a mess and his eyes wide and alert.

“It’s like, she’ll drink out of my hand but when I offer her the bowl she can’t lift her head up…” he says into his cell.

He beckons at Phil, who drops his bag at the door and follows him. He feels like he hasn’t breathed since he stepped inside.

Dan takes him to the bedroom and he can see Bella on her side, her chest rising and falling. She’s breathing. That’s good. Her eyes are vacant though, until she realises Phil’s in the room, her tail giving a half-hearted wag. She tries to stand, but Phil can see she’s weak and she gives up, flopping back on her side.

He glances at Dan helplessly, but he’s not looking at them - he’s staring out the window, listening to whatever the other person on the phone has to say. Phil hopes it’s the vet. He sits by her side - she’s drooling heavily, and Dan’s placed a towel beneath her mouth. Phil calls her name softly to try and get a reaction, but she’s gone vacant again. He strokes her muzzle gently, his heart thrumming as he listens to Dan.

“No, no. Nothing like that, there’s no mess anywhere. She’s drooling, but it’s just… lethargy,” he says, “But she’s sick, she’s not just lazy. She can barely stand,” there’s a pause as he listens, finally letting out a sigh of relief, “Thanks,” he says quickly, “We’ll be there soon.”   

He hangs up and Phil is on his feet, “What happened?”

“I don’t know,” Dan’s voice is clipped, and Phil knows he’s truly concerned. No matter how much he bitches at her, he loves her fiercely, “I went to take her for a walk and she couldn’t get up from her bed. When she did, she just toppled over, like her body was too heavy.”

Phil’s heart clenches and he nods, trying to stay calm, “So it’s recent?”

“Uh, I…” he looks sheepish, “I’d been busy all day. She could’ve been like this for hours and I wouldn’t have noticed… I was head down in my work.”

“She usually sleeps all day anyway,” Phil says, relieving Dan of any guilt he was trying to feel. He doesn’t blame Dan, “You wouldn’t have known until I got home.”

He glances down at her, and she just looks _tired._ It’s a strange contrast when usually she’s a bundle of energy. Sometimes Dan has to wrap her in a blanket and pin her to the couch just to stop her from licking them to death. It breaks his heart. 

“Come on Bella,” he coos softly, scratching her behind the ears, “We’re gonna go to the vet, okay?”

Dan swallows thickly, “Can you- will you drive, please?”

Fear travels down Phil’s spine but he nods. The car is an old hunk of junk, handed down from Martyn. They could easily afford their own car, but there’s no reason to buy something that they’re never going to use. They still rely on public transport for almost everything, and Uber for everything else. But it was the insistence of Phil’s mother, and eventually Dan’s as well, that convinced them that they needed an emergency option. They both had their licence, after all.

At least there were these moments that he could be grateful they followed the advice.  

He finds the keys at the bottom of the cup that holds all of their random knick-knacks while Dan gathers Bella’s blanket, wrapping her up in it and lifting her carefully. The fact that she doesn’t protest makes Phil even more worried. She usually hates being carried.

They head downstairs and Phil’s proud of himself as he remembers to lock the door behind him, and Dan swears less than usual going down the stairs. His steps are careful and Phil resists the urge to try and be helpful. It’s not the time.

The car unlocks without incident and Dan lowers Bella into the backseat, sitting beside her. Dan somehow remembers to turn the car over once a week, so the engine starts, and there’s even a little bit of fuel in the tank. Phil isn’t sure if fuel gets stale but he prays that it just _works_ , and nothing goes wrong for them.

His heart races and he’s even more anxious that he has to drive, but also do it with a sick dog in the backseat. Bella’s head is in Dan’s lap and he gives her reassuring pats, his voice low as he speaks to her. Phils’ not sure what he’s saying, but he hopes it makes her feel better.

He pulls out of the driveway carefully, and maybe he looks in both directions once or twice too many times. He’s not a _bad_ driver, he’s just overly cautious which gets him into trouble.

“Can you direct me?”

“Already got it up. It’s not far,” Dan promises, “Turn left at the intersection.”

Phil takes a moment, index and thumb extending on both of his hands to check which one makes the ‘L’ shape, before indicating and changing lanes. Dan releases a fond, exasperated laugh, but he doesn’t say anything.

They’re both quiet as they drive. Occasionally Dan will talk to Bella, or give directions, but it’s soft so Phil can concentrate. His hands are tight on the steering wheel and he checks over his shoulder more times than necessary, but at least the roads are fairly quiet. It’s almost nine when they arrive in the parking lot of the after hours vet.

Phil’s shaky as he turns off the engine, but Dan’s hand is firm and comforting on his shoulder.

“You did good,” he whispers, letting himself out of the backseat and picking Bella up, pressing a kiss to her cheek as he does so.

“Thanks,” Phil murmurs, fingers flexing from where they’ve gone stiff. He takes the keys out of the ignition, gets out and locks the doors behind him and is ready to not drive again for at least half an hour.

Together they walk for the doors and they open to an empty waiting room. It’s startlingly similar to a doctor’s office, with seats in rows. The reception is manned by a young woman who looks up when they enter.

“Is this Bella?” she asks and Dan nods, relieved he doesn’t have to explain himself as he takes her to the counter.

Phil follows more slowly, looking around at all of the posters on the walls, describing various diseases and warning signs in animals. It reminds him of his internship and he fights to block out the horrible flashbacks, smiling weakly at the woman at the counter - her name tag says Kelly.

“Has anything changed since we spoke?” she asks, glancing between them and smiling kindly.

“No,” Dan reports, “I haven’t tried any water since we left, but she’s just so... energy-less.”

Dan lowers Bella to the ground, putting her on her feet and taking the blanket away. Almost immediately she sags to the side and lies down before she falls, eyes sad as she puts her head on her paws.

“Not in a good way, is she?” Kelly says gently, sliding a form onto the counter, “Alright, can you fill this out for me, and I’ll take her through the back. We should have an update for you in maybe half an hour?” she suggests, “There’s a twenty-four hour coffee shop down the road? I’ll give you a call when we’re ready,”  

“Thank you,” Phil murmurs, watching as Kelly tugs at Bella’s lead. Bella stares at her and starts the makings of getting up, but she lacks the energy and Kelly takes pity on her. She doesn’t look strong but she lifts Bella with ease, disappearing down a long hallway.

For a short moment, Phil can’t help but think of ‘Lady and the Tramp’, and the long walk to be euthanized at the pound. It sets his heart racing and he turns away, picking up a pamphlet and staring at it, not really taking in the words.

“Hey,” Dan murmurs softly, now that he’s completed the form, “Want to go for that coffee?”

Phil glances down the long hallway again, and something in Dan’s voice tells him he doesn’t want to leave either.

“Do you mind if we stay?"

“No,” Dan says quickly, “Not at all.”

They sit down in one of the long rows and they simultaneously pull out their phones. Dan’s foot is tapping so Phil knows he’s not really paying attention to his screen. It’s an automatic reaction - pulling out their phones - but Phil finds himself pocketing his a few moments later anyway. He glances around the waiting room again, restless and nervous.

There’s a water cooler in the corner, with a foot pedal that changes the water to flow into a dog’s bowl. It makes Phil grin and he wonders if it’s something they could install in their flat. He hates filling up Bella’s water - the bending is a chore and he’s not as limber as he used to be.

“She’ll be okay,” Dan says out of nowhere, and Phil glances at him in surprise.

“Yeah. Yeah, of course she will,” he nods.

Dan nods, mouth twisting, and Phil frowns in concern. He didn’t realise how much Dan was worrying.

“Hey,” he says quietly, “She’s not in distress, Dan. She’s responsive, and she’s not hurting…”

“We don’t know that,” Dan replies, his voice higher than usual, ”What if she’s so sick she can’t even tell us she’s in pain?” 

“Then it’s a good thing we’re at the vet,” Phil’s voice is firm and he grips Dan’s hand.

He doesn’t care where they are.

  


It's half an hour later when Kelly returns. In that time, a handful of people have trickled through - birds hit by cars, a dog who was having seizures, and a cat who had returned home missing half of her face. Dan and Phil had remained silent, their hands clasped between them so they wouldn't draw too much attention.

She approaches them with a soft smile at their hands, thankfully not a fan.

“She's okay,” she starts, and Dan breathes a sigh of relief.

“Thanks for starting with that. We appreciate it,” Phil laughs softly and she chuckles.

“What happened?” Dan asked. 

“Basically, it was her body’s reaction to eating something that didn’t agree with her,” she explains, “Sometimes it's vomiting, sometimes it reacts in a way that shuts down the rest of her body to focus on processing the foreign thing. We have her on fluids now, but we'd like to keep her overnight for observation,”

“She ate something…?” Phil murmured, raising one eyebrow.

“Could she have died?” Dan asks.

The vet nods, “She could have. Sometimes they come good on their own, if the body absorbs whatever they ate, but sometimes dogs die of dehydration or starvation before they can expel it.”

Dan swallows hard, nodding.

“The only thing now is the cost,” she says it like an apology, “As it's after hours, we have the initial consultation fee of a hundred a twenty,” she says, walking them over to the counter where she pulls out an invoice.

She speaks for another few minutes, detailing the breakdown of IV costs per hour, how much it is to keep her overnight in their patient kennels, the food for the morning, clean up fee among other expenses, ending with, “... So in total we are looking at nine hundred and fifty, but there are always options or payment plans we can look at… “

Dan isn't surprised at the price. It's after hours after all. He knows just as well as Phil that the cost would never have been an issue. Not when it came to family.  

Phil shakes his head, barely batting an eyelid, “No, it's fine. Just on card, thank you.”

She pauses in surprise, probably not expecting two young blokes to have that kind of money without even consulting each other, but she moves around and keys it in, offering him the machine.

“Alright,” she says, waiting for the machine to approve before taking it back, “Tomorrow morning, maybe give us a call around seven or eight, and we will let you know if she's ready to come home.

 

Dan offers to drive home, which Phil is forever thankful for.

It feels strange to talk, and Dan seems to have memorized the way so it’s mostly silent until Dan hits the windscreen wiper instead of the indicator and swears softly. He doesn’t seem as anxious as Phil is when he drives, but Phil knows the anxiety still exists.

When they finally get home, Dan turns off the engine and heaves a sigh. His knuckles are white where they’ve been gripping the steering wheel tightly, and Phil smiles because that’s exactly how he was when they arrived at the vet.  
  
“I miss her,” Dan says quietly, and Phil’s mouth twists.

“It’s only been half an hour,”

Dan shrugs, but Phil knows what he means.

“At least we know she’s safe now. She’ll make it through the night and they’re gonna do a good job of looking after her.”

“What could she have eaten though?” Dan asks, finally pulling himself from the car and locking up.

“We can have a look when we get up there. You know how she likes to drag stuff behind the couch? Maybe there?”

Dan nods, hovering behind as Phil lets them in. The stairs seem longer now, and when there’s nobody to greet them at the door, Phil’s heart sinks a little. He’d gotten so used to her being around that it feels like a piece of him is missing. He can tell Dan feels it too as they lock the door behind them.  
  
Dan immediately heads to the couch, pulling it away from the wall. He can’t help but smile at her collection – half a blanket, a ripped up toy, a whole toy, a half-chewed marrowbone. He crouches down to sift through the things and Phil stands over him, frowning a little when he spots something amongst the debris.

“What’s that?”

It’s a bottle of something, but she’s chewed the outside enough that the label is faded and destroyed. Phil’s heart sinks as he recognises it, Dan confirming it when he sniffs it.

“Slime."

Dan closes his eyes, letting out a huff, “That explains it.”

“I haven’t seen that stuff for years. How did she even get into it?”

Dan shrugs, “Pearl and Darcy were over the other day. Maybe they found it and left it out?”

Phil nods in understanding, “Ohh, of course.”  
  
Dan cleans up the mess behind the couch in silence, most of it going into the rubbish, but he replaces the blanket with a new one, giving her a new toy as well. Phil hovers restlessly, unsure what to do but watch him move around the house.   

“Our poor baby…” Dan finally huffs once he’s done, “I hope she’s okay tonight,” he murmurs wistfully.

“I think she’ll be okay. Kelly looked like she’d give Bella lots of hugs.”

Dan nods and he reaches for Phil’s hand, squeezing tightly, “Can we go to bed? So tomorrow comes sooner?”

Phil chuckles and nods, and together they get ready for bed. They’re still quiet – exhausted by their concern and relief, and from missing her. Phil finds it funny how much impact she had over their lives. Now gone, their house almost feels empty. He sighs gently, crawling under the covers where Dan is already tucked in. He’s glowing lightly from moisturiser and Phil doesn’t really want to touch him. He hates the feeling on his skin, but apparently Dan wants the closeness tonight, settling against Phil’s side. He’s uncomfortable, but it’s okay for now. The moisturiser will dry and it won’t be an issue anymore.  
  
“You know what annoys me?” Dan asks, once the lights are out. It’s not a question, and he continues on after a beat, “There’s no way of preventing that. Like, unless we childlock our cupboards every time the girls come over, which isn’t often, and supervise them every second or whatever so we can make sure they haven’t left anything out or fed it to Bella… and then do a house sweep after and make sure nothing was inadvertently left out…and then watch Bella all the time to make sure she’s not getting into anything...” he’s out of breath when he pauses, and Phil can practically feel the deep frown on his face.

“...Or we could teach Bella not to chew,” Phil offers.  It’s a nice thought, but impractical. They have trouble teaching her anything beyond sitting, and she’s always been a chewer. Phil has lost many a sock to her hungry teeth.  
  
Dan just sighs, “Sorry,” he says. “I just hate that this happened. We’re here to protect her and we let this happen.”

“Dan,” Phil starts, “Sometimes stuff like this happens…”

“She could have died, Phil.”

It hangs between them for a moment and Phil sighs. He’s trying not to get frustrated but it’s an argument neither of them can win.

“I wish she could be outside more. There’s less for her to eat out there,” Dan murmurs.

“She’d be lonely and bored out there,” Phil comments, “She’s our pup. She craves company and long naps in her bed.”

It shuts Dan up again and he sits in a frustrated silence - too much prickly energy, and far too much frowning.

“In the morning, before we go and get her, we can check the house one more time. Then we can check all the lower cupboards, make sure that if the girls _do_ come over, they can’t randomly find something…. Because if we child proof them, you know I’m not going to be able to get into them either,” Phil says, and at least it makes Dan smile, “At least that’s a step closer to safety.”

“And in our next house, all storage is going to be out of reach from anyone under six foot.”

“We’re going to make a lot of our friends very angry,” Phil comments, and Dan chuckles, head leaning onto Phil’s shoulder.

“It’s a good plan. At least I’ll feel better about leaving her for hours while I’m working.”

Phil nods, sliding further down until his head is on the pillow, which prompts Dan to do the same.

“The alarm is set for seven.”

“Disgusting,” Dan comments, nose wrinkling, “I’ll call them as soon as we’re awake though.”

“Sounds good,” Phil says around a yawn, and they both fall silent as sleep overcomes them both  


 

Dan’s awake before the alarm goes off, bleary eyed and on the phone before Phil even realises what being awake even feels like. 

“Hi! My name is Daniel Howell. We dropped our dog off last night - Bella? Just wondering how she’s doing and if we can pick her up?”

It’s a scripted ask - something Dan’s been repeated in his head for the past fifteen minutes - anxiously making sure he had it right and it covered everything before he could even call. It comes out as a rush and Dan cringes, hoping it makes sense. He can hear Phil sitting up beside him, reaching for his glasses and rubbing his eyes sleepily.

“Hi Dan. Let me just look it up on our system…” he hears the tapping noises of the receptionist’s keyboard and he drums his fingers on the duvet as he waits. It takes Phil’s hand on his arm to stop the nervous habit, “Okay, yes. Bella Howell?” Why they insist on giving dogs the same name as their owners was beyond Dan, “She’s made a full recovery overnight, and is full of beans this morning. She’s been telling all the nurses off,” Dan can hear the smile in her voice, unable to keep his own grin at bay.

“Oh, thank goodness,” he sighs softly, chuckling, a weight lifting from his shoulders. Beside him, Phil beams. 

“She’s ready for you to come get her whenever you’re ready.”

“We’ll be there in an hour,” Dan confirms, remembering their plan to puppy-proof the cupboards.

“No problem! We’ll see you then.”  
  


 

An hour later they arrive at the vet - Dan drives again, because he knows how much Phil hates it - and also because his eyes are watering from dust allergies. It didn’t take them long to go through the cupboards and relocate anything that could potentially make her sick again, fuelled by the fact that as soon as they were done, they could see her. 

Kelly isn’t at the counter this time, instead it’s a young man - Darryl, who greets them with a friendly smile. He has them signing a release document, before telling them he’ll be back soon with Bella.

The five minutes he’s gone feels longer than the half hour they waited for her diagnosis,

Finally the doors down the hallway open and Bella appears in all of her fluffy glory, unsure why she’s there but happy about it regardless. Dan makes a soft noise that Phil is sure wasn’t intentional, and they laugh together, calling her name.

When she notices them there, her body wags more than her tail does and she barks, trying to get to them, but Darryl is strong. He doesn’t get her go but hurries to the end of the hallway, where Bella body-slams both of her Dads, wet tongue bathing them both in love. Her paw is shaved, a strange contrast against her fur, but Phil figures it’s where they put the IV in. 

Dan wraps his arms around her, squeezing her tight as Phil rubs the fuzz on her muzzle. Dan isn’t sure he’s ever going to let go of her again.

“Thank you so much,” Phil says, glancing up at Darryl, “You know, for taking good care of her and making sure she was okay.”

“It’s really no problem,” Darryl says softly, “She’ll likely be sore and sorry for herself once her excitement settles. She vomited a couple of times and she’s had some pretty nasty stuff pumped through her, but she shouldn’t have any problems. I’d give her a few days to rest before taking her on walks though.”

“She can have whatever she wants,” Dan murmurs, scooping her into his arms and standing.

As expected, she hates it and squirms, until Dan has to put her down in case he drops her. He takes her leash instead, holding tight.

“If there’s any problems, you should take her back to her regular vet, and we’ll be forwarding her paperwork there so they know what happened, but if it’s after hours again, feel free to drop her by. Other than that, you’re free to take her home!”  

Phil nods, thanking him once more and crouching to give her a pat, before they head out.

“I can drive, if you wanna keep her calm in the back?” Phil asks, hand out, asking for the keys.

Dan digs in a pocket and finds them, pausing, “Are you sure? I don’t mind.”

“Nah, I got it.” Phil says softly, and though he’s nervous, it’s almost a familiar route now.

Dan nods, passing the keys over and sliding into the backseat once it’s unlocked, patting his lap so that Bella jumps onto it. In the front, Phil adjusts the chair and mirrors before pulling out. Once more, he hears Dan in the backseat, talking softly to Bella. She’s an excited mess this time, and he’s fighting to keep her still, but Phil prefers this over their first journey any day.

After he's parked in the garage (rather terribly, as Dan chastises), they take Bella back upstairs to their little home.

Immediately she's telling them off with that bark of hers, and her paws are somehow dirty which leaves prints on the carpet. Dan can already see the trail of hair she leaves behind, and within moments one of her toys is in pieces, with polyfil strewn across the room.

Dan and Phil exchange a glance, knowing smiles as Dan moves in to tackle her to a halt.

Despite the money spent and the complaints she causes, they wouldn't change it.

Not at all.

**Author's Note:**

> This might turn into a little Dan and Phil and Dog antics series, MAYBE. It took me an actual age to write this and I've got so many fics on the go that I can't seem to write anything of :/ And also as I was editing this I wanted to scrap it because it felt like trash. I'm trying a new style so that might be it. But we'll see. 
> 
> Come talk to me on Tumblr! [CallofTheCurlew](https://callofthecurlew.tumblr.com/)


End file.
